Warcraft When Imariel Met Mirina

When Imariel Met Mirina  
By  
Ian Reid

Author's Commentary: These two are, infact, my chracters when I play on Sisters of Elune. I enjoyed playing them in my guild and felt I needed to write a quick story detailing their meeting and how an undead became friends with a Blood Elf. I am to say the least happy how this turned out over-all, but sometimes wish I could change Mirina's encounter with the snobby Blood Elf at the beginning.

The majestic blood elf city of Silvermoon stretched on before Mirina LeStadt's yellow glowing eyes. She winced slightly at the intensity of the city's proud brightness. All around her, the scarlet and gold-capped towers reached high, impossibly built through laborious means. This was obviously a work of magic. Mirina's paled and dead skin tingled with the permeation of magic in the air. This was definitely a work of great magic. The product of pride and ancient arcana was observed on all of her senses, a broom sweeping a path without someone to work it, a room where books put themselves away.

Mirina loved and hated this city equally. It was the exact opposite of the Undercity; yet it reminded Mirina of her home in Dalaran. Mirina never had a harder time navigating a city, either. Thunder Bluff was easier to navigate compared to the bright winding streets. Mirina wandered the streets aimlessly, groups of blood elves at every turn boasting proudly about recent accomplishments of theirs.

"…So then a peasant begged me for some gold to buy some food," one said, laughing, "I kicked the poor bastard and shooed him. Rabble filth." Mirina examined the speaker, a priest of sorts. She scowled at the pompous and proud priest.

"Did you think perhaps the poor bastard was hungry?" Mirina asked. The other blood elves of the group wheeled in disbelief at the Forsaken sister. Her robes were tattered, being in need of replacement after several adventures aiding her fellow Forsaken in Hillsbrad. Several held a scented handkerchief to their faces to stave off the stench of rot Mirina had grown accustomed to. Even though Mirina was dead and knew there was hardly anything she could do for its drawbacks, Mirina habitually bathed regularly.

"Oh, please, don't tell me you're some old priest come back to preach," said the first blood elf priest. "Why waste your wealth on bums when you can buy such exquisite robes?" Mirina frowned.

"I don't know who taught you, but you don't have the mind to be a proper priest," said Mirina. "To aid those, whether they be Troll, Tauren, Orc, blood elf, maybe even Human, the less fortunate deserve the same kindness as those as fortunate as yourself. I may be dead, but I at least know what it means to die for a cause and return in kind." The blood elf priest started for Mirina, raising his mace to strike her.

"How dare you speak out of turn, wretch!" he rumbled. Two of his companions held his arms to restrain him.

"Easy, easy, Faltoria," said the one on his right. "Don't bother with it, that thing isn't worth you spoiling your grandfather's prized mace!"

Mirina, even though she was dead and her blood had coagulated in her veins, flushed. Mirina lifted an open hand, palm up, and taunted. Faltoria shook himself loose of his comrade's grip and charged the undead.

And was turned head over heels and on his back staring up at the undead girl standing over him.

"If you were a proper priest, you'd show some respect to others of your order," Mirina advised. "If you were a proper priest, you'd think of others before yourself. You are not a proper priest. Just because you can heal wounds and wield the Light as your own, don't think you can decide who lives and who dies. Think about those words, would you?" Mirina look up at the other blood elves present, shot them a glare, and pushed past them.

The encounter in the streets for some reason gave Mirina an unexpected reason to feel like she had set someone straight. In most cases, Mirina tended to do just that and had enough of effect to change their thinking, even. In her self-content, she wandered the city streets before coming up to the Royal Exchange.

It was a large area left rather sparse, with a fountain and benches. At one end a bank already linked to Mirina's personal vault and that of her guild; the other, being the closest to Mirina's position, an area for Mages to study openly on spell matrices. Mirina stepped off the path and went right towards the auction hub. She spoke with the auctioneer, to check with her records, and celebrated silently the selling of an uncommonly pricey pair of mail pants she couldn't wear.

In her personal rapture, she just barely felt the tension on her belt as a knife cut roughly the strings of her purse. She wheeled round, grabbing the thief by the wrist and knocking the dagger out of his hand.

"Oww!" The blood elf thief yelped as Mirina twisted his arm behind him.

"You either have a good reason to try to steal my money, or you're just really bad at being a thief," said Mirina. "Give me a reason I shouldn't turn you over to the authorities." The blood elf reversed the hold, taking several steps away and leveled a bow before Mirina even registered how far away he moved. Mirina's own mace was loosed and held tightly.

"Stay away from me, Scourge!" the blood elf shouted. Mirina raised an eyebrow.

He had obviously seen better days, his well groomed features looking worn and beginning to tatter. His blonde hair had red highlights about it and was growing unkempt. He was dressed in simple and thin leathers, another sword hung at his side.

Mirina frowned at the boy, and sighed. Even though she had been awakened as a Forsaken, she could remember the things she did as one of the Scourge.

"You're not much of a conversationalist, are you?" Mirina said. "Kid, if I wanted to harm you, I would. But I'm not here for that. So put the bow away and let's go about our lives, shall we?" The blood elf held his ground. He kept the bow aimed.

"You know as well as I do this is going to end up with you on the ground, kid," said Mirina. She took a step toward the thief. He loosed an arrow, the projectile ricocheting off the aura of light that enveloped Mirina. He fired another volley, finding it ineffective.

"Come on, if it didn't work the first time, it won't work the next five," said Mirina. The blood elf drew his sword and charged.

When he raised his sword, it felt like he was cutting through thick syrup. This encasing aura around the undead slowed his blade. The undead raised her mace and knocked his blow away, retaliating with a strike of her own. The blood elf spun on his foot to match his sword and came back around to parry. It left an opening, and the blood elf brought his pommel to strike the undead square in the chest. He took the reprieve to take a step back.

"Die!" he shouted, "for the family you took from me!" As he charged, a white ribbon of energy wrapped round the raised sword, the blade shattered and fell in clean cut shards. He looked in disbelief at the remnants of his weapon and then at the undead in front of him.

"You done?" Mirina asked. The blood elf tossed the sundered sword aside and pulled out his bow once more, setting arrow to string and aiming ready.

"I'll never give up!" the blood elf shouted. "Not until Scourge are purged from the city! My family was lost at your hands and I won't let you take any more!" Mirina blinked. She could see the finer details she overlooked. His face was stained with tears freshly falling, he gnashed his teeth out of fury and his eyes narrowed. Mirina smirked and nodded slightly.

"I see, now," she said silently, particularly to no one. "I understand your pain." She replaced her mace at her side and strode towards the distressed youth. The blood elf remained firmly in place, firing an arrow through bleary eyes and missing completely his target. Before he could have a chance to ready another, arms wrapped around his neck and held him.

The feeling was unlike anything he remembered. The touch was motherly, the smell was uncomfortable, but the blood elf felt like nothing could harm him while in her embrace. Before he realized, his tears fell faster, the bow fell from his grip and he returned the hug. He buried his face into her shoulder, feeling as if all his hatred was washing away at her touch. It felt so good, this feeling, to be hugged, the blood elf forgot all his anger and pain. And as quickly as she embraced, he was released. He fell to his knees, holding his forearm to his eyes to hide his shameful crying.

"What's your name, boy?" Mirina asked.

"Imariel," he answered. Mirina smirked and held a hand out.

"Imariel," she invited, "would you care to join me for some lunch?" Imariel looked up at the Forsaken priest and her offering hand.

"Really?" he asked. Mirina nodded, a broad smile now shown across her paled features.

"You looked famished," she said. "And after some uppity jerk kicks you around, you deserve some show of kindness."

Imariel blinked. "How did—"

"I just know," said Mirina. "Come on. I saw a tavern nearby while I was wandering this labyrinth."

The tavern was wrapped in a comfortable blue light, making it easy on the eyes for all who entered. Imariel found a seat at the largest table and sat in the most regal of the seats surrounding it. Mirina sat across from him munching on a juicy fruit. Imariel picked up a leg of meat and bit into its tender and delicious flesh, devouring it within moments. Mirina watched him intently, savoring the juice of the fruit.

"How's the meat?" Mirina asked. Imariel didn't answer immediately, setting aside a third leg bone and starting into his fourth. "That good, huh?" Imariel filled up on meat washed it down with a couple glasses of aged port. Imariel cleaned off his sauce-covered chin with a napkin and let out a satisfactory belch. Imariel sat back in the chair, patting his full stomach contentedly.

"This is the most anyone has ever done for me," he said. "I just wish I could somehow repay you, Sister." Mirina flushed at his words and chuckled happily.

"No need, Imariel," said Mirina. "I am paid already with seeing you happy. You are not something unwanted. Remember that, won't you?" Imariel looked up from his tankard of mead and nodded gratefully. Mirina raised her own tankard in cheers and drank.

Paying for the fine meats and drink, Mirina and Imariel set out on the city once more, coming to the Bazaar and perused the auction wares. Mirina bought for herself a few armor patches for where her armor grew tattered, while Imariel bought a new sword to replace the once Mirina broke earlier that day. Night began to fall upon the city, and Mirina saw need to retire. Imariel seemed ready to sleep for a long while as well. The two stood at the northernmost point before the palace.

"I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for me," said Imariel. "You are easily one of the greatest people to ever walk Azeroth. You've given me more than I could ever ask for."

"You're a noble heart, Imariel," Mirina returned. "If you find what you have sought, you're welcome to join me with the Knights of the New Dawn. You'd fit right in. And maybe give Rhovanion a run for his money in an eating contest." Mirina could already picture the mute blood elf writing a few mean expletives on his chalkboard.

"I think I will take up your offer, eventually," he said. "But for now, I want to remember your name, Forsaken Sister. I have sought what I have searched for."

"I'm Mirina," she said. "Mirina Elisabeth LeStadt. And what was it you have found, Imariel?"

Imariel paused. Tears glistened streaked down his cheeks. "Hope. And a friend."


End file.

Warcraft, Friendship